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Senjen was in the doorway to the cockpit of his client’s ship, idly observing the readouts and displays around him. It was safe to say that he only theoretically understood how to pilot a starship. He felt reasonably confident he could figure it out if he had to, but he did not have practice with it. If the patterns he had noticed since leaving his homeworld were anything to go by, most aliens would probably just expect him to be able to plug into the computer directly and pilot it with his mind. Sure, some Utaysi could probably do that, but it still had to be learned. He had the impression that most of the organics expected them to be like AIs they had created, or some other hyper-advanced programs. He supposed the second one was technically true for them, but that did not mean he wanted to spend his days contemplating the nature of existence or...doing math.

Ninety-two years. That was how long it had been since the Utaysi had made first contact, by their homeworld’s counting. It was almost a lifetime for some of the species out there, but they were still the newest civilization to this galaxy. Subtract the time it had taken to study languages, establish diplomatic contact, and learn enough about outside cultures that they could understand the aliens in more than just words, and there had been even less time for the galaxy to grow accustomed to their new mechanical neighbors. It had been about forty-five years since Utaysi citizens had become free to travel to alien worlds, but it was still very much more the exception than the rule. As they had learned, the state of galactic politics was...tumultuous, at best. Senjen might have considered himself a pioneer, an explorer, except he was pretty sure one could not be an explorer if the places he “explored” already had people living in them.

The claws on Senjen’s foot grasped the frame of the doorway to keep him anchored in place. His client was a Quelun-Vosh. Their ships were usually filled with water, or some kind of gel, from his understanding, but this ship didn’t seem to have been made by them. It was filled with air instead, though at least not oxygenated. Part of him sort of wished it had been water, if only to let him experience swimming for the first time in his life. Normally, his frame would sink like a brick in water, but out here in zero-G, he could have moved through it all as if floating. Granted, it would still be more effective just to pull himself along or push off the walls, but it would have been amusing for a while. Regardless, after a moment, he pushed himself farther into the cockpit and made a quick sound to grab his client’s attention.

“So this ‘Korit’ place, what’s it like? Any...specific threats we, or, um-...I need to keep a lookout for? For your safety.” Senjen asked. His frame was, like most Utaysi, constructed in the image of their organic creators. It was painted deep blue with some white accents on his arms and back, though it was somewhat faded and chipped in some places, revealing the dull metallic color underneath. At base, it was one of the most popular mass-produced civilian models, though he had bought it used. It was meant for general-purpose living, so it was unremarkable by any Utaysi standard. Fortunately, the Utaysi themselves were still a bit exotic by default out in the galaxy. As a part of preparing himself for galactic travel, he had installed some upgrades onto his frame, one of which were a set of lights integrated into his casing to put on a similar sort of light show as the QV’s bioluminescence. He did not have the slightest idea himself what they actually meant, but they synced to his translation program. And they were pretty to look at, at least.

A Quelun-Vosh approximately named Into-The-Abyss-In-Search-Of-Light tugged irritably at the ship’s controls and let out a wracking cough. His gel bubble was uncomfortably thin and sickly green in hue; his tentacles could barely make the requisite moves to control it. He made a mental note to replenish it when they got to port.

The control room, like much of the ship, looked like the inside of a cave. Control panels protruded from roughly hewn black walls. The displays were programmed to relay information in ways a QV could easily understand, though they did also bark reports at him verbally in Tindrel. He could understand some of it and his gel suit translated the rest, flashing separate lights on the inside of his bubble.

His suit also alerted him that his assistant had entered the cockpit fully. He turned and watched the crude lights flashing off their metal casing, then coughed again. “The best way to survive on Korit is to be invisible. The more you give away, the more people have to use against you.”

ITAISOL, as Humans often (and annoyingly) called him, looked distastefully at Senjen’s distinctive shell. His suit used sonar and echolocation to paint a picture of his surroundings, and he was increasingly worried the Utaysi was going to attract more attention that it was worth in protection.

“Did you mention you can change bodies? Mayhaps embody something more…discreet.”

“Four minutes to translight exit to our destination.” A Tindrel voice barked into the room.

He glanced back, then gestured to Senjen.

“Time to prepare for inspection. Do you have the docking and customs fees?”

Senjen floated his way into the cockpit, up towards the opposite wall from Light, and found a spot to latch his claws onto to anchor him again while he looked more closely at the displays. Psychologically speaking, Utaysi were natural climbers. It was instinct for them to be able to orient themselves as they pleased in three-dimensional space, and so their ships tended to lack any particular bias for up or down. He had read QV ships were the same, and evidently, so were whichever species had constructed this one.

Senjen was oriented upside-down in relation to his QV client. He tilted his head, looking down onto him for a moment. Out of all the aliens he had been learning of, he found the QV to be one of the most interesting just to look at. According to the archives they had recovered, sea creatures that somewhat resembled them had once inhabited the deep oceans of their homeworld, before the extinction. With no skeleton or shell and so many independent tentacles, their movements could be mesmerizing, and he imagined that was what it was like for those extinct creatures as well. His homeworld was a beautiful place, but it was lacking in biodiversity, and unless the Utaysi decided to intervene and seed new species themselves, it would be for tens of thousands of years.

“Sure I can, if you have a robot on-hand with enough processing power, that has been formatted to accommodate a Utaysi personality matrix.” Senjen answered. A metallic clanging briefly echoed through the room as he lightly struck his hand against his chestplate. “This is the only frame I own, right now.”

For a short time, Senjen’s gaze settled on the display that was charting out their course towards towards Korit. He connected with his frame’s onboard computer and double-checked his account. “Yeah, I have the fees and everything. I haven’t been here before, so how, uh...does this work, exactly? I’ve heard there isn’t much that is actually illegal on Korit, so is there anything we need to worry about with this package? Is it customs we need to keep it hidden from, or someone else?”

Light sighed, which manifested as a low-pitched staccato clicking. He then shivered as pain shot up his deformed tentacle. He had started this day in a foul mood and felt none of his usual satisfaction in imparting knowledge.

“The dock inspectors are the nerve endings for most of the rest of Korit. They know who would be most interested in your cargo and can set you up with a meeting to do business, taking a percentage. Those are your ‘customs charges’. If you’re disagreeable with the inspectors, they may inform on us and we’ll end up losing the whole lot anyway.”

Light detached from the ship’s controls and floated towards Senjen. “In this case though, the cargo in our hold is just a decoy. What's really important is inside your head.” His other tentacle reached out to tap the Utaysi’s jaw, the gel suit stretching lethargically to accommodate. The QV resisted the urge to pry open his assistant’s mouth to look inside, as sometimes his species did around opaque species.

“So don’t give away that you’re storing anything, no matter what they try. Ok?”

The ship shuddered violently around them, and several items came free of their hooks to float around the control room. A detailed hologram of a planet beamed into the middle of the cavernous room room and alien symbols flashed around it, indicating they had arrived in the system.

“Just tell them what else we’ve got and where we got it from. If they ask how we got it, make something up that isn’t ‘it was in the ship when we got here’. You know how to do that right? I’ll take us in.”

Light floated back to the control and plotted a course for the Fourteen Factories orbital station around Korit.

“Careful there. We may not eat, but I still have teeth.” Senjen remarked when Light tapped his jaw. He was capable of speaking or making any other sound without moving his mouth at all, though Utaysi usually ended up doing so anyway. He had found that aliens were sometimes surprised at how many parts they constructed their frames with that were vestigial for machines, or how many mannerisms they had that were “unnecessary”, or just inefficient. What was strange to them just felt natural to the Utaysi.

After the tentacle moved away, Senjen tapped a claw to the side of his head. “The data’s tucked away safe, hidden with a bunch of other garbage. It’s encrypted anyway, and no, I didn’t try to access it.”

Senjen detached himself from the wall as well after they arrived in-system. “And speaking of garbage…” He muttered as he cast his gaze around the control room. While Light brought them in, he pushed himself closer to the center of the room to start gathering up the collection of loose objects that had shaken free and secure them somewhere. Fourteen Factories was a station that simulated gravity, so the automated systems broadcasted warnings to secure loose cargo on approach.

For large-scale shipping, loading and unloading in microgravity was more efficient, but only for ships that followed standardized templates which meshed well with automated procedures. Microgravity was more trouble than it was worth for dealing with small, privately-owned freighters like their own. The station broadcast a rather precise path for their vessel to follow to match the rotation of the station itself, though any decent autopilot could follow a simple flight plan. In fact, the station enforced strict regulations against the use of manual controls within its vicinity, as all incoming and outgoing traffic was AI directed for optimal efficiency, not to mention safety. Looking at the displays as they drew near, it was not hard to see why. The sheer number of ships coming and going to the station could make space feel crowded. Nearing the docking bay itself, the autopilot brought them in close enough to other “lanes” of traffic that Senjen could read the lettering painted on their hulls just through their own cameras.

Once in the docking bay and matched in velocity to the station’s rotation, their ship was “caught” by magnetic clamps and its engines immediately powered down so they could be pulled into position on their designated landing pad. The station itself was massive, and was arranged in ringed layers radiating out from its center. The perceived centrifugal force from the station’s rotation was what mimicked the force of gravity, at about sixty percent of the planet’s surface gravity. It was more than enough to prevent the docking bay from being filled with random loose objects from the veritable crowd of ships it hosted on any given day.

Senjen’s claws were latched onto what became the ceiling once their ship began to experience the station’s “gravity”, but he was actually rather graceful in dropping down and flipping over onto his feet once they were stationary. Right away, he moved back into the hold to start getting their cargo ready for unloading. “Say, is that gel suit of yours still good for a vacuum? It doesn’t look as, uh, ‘healthy’ as some others I’ve seen...if that’s the word for it.” Senjen asked. It was not practical for the station to repeatedly pressurize and depressurize chambers large enough to accommodate entire ships, so it was the responsibility of the crews of private freighters to be able to handle work in a vacuum.

“Very good. Keep it that way.” Light replied, relaxing a little. Once autopilot was enabled, he took one last look at the station through a navigation camera and his body flashed black with green trim out of fear. Even the smallest of the fourteen rings along that long central corridor towards the Great Elevator Bay was bigger than the rock he’d spent his formative years on.

“It will hold.” Light assured Senjen, heading to the first door outside of the control room. It opened into a spherical area about three metres in diameter which was originally the pilot’s cot. The room was full of more gel, some of which tried to float out. He collected the escaping blobs into his suit and entered fully into the room, closing the door behind him.

Immersed in the full extent of his gel bubble was the only time Light felt something approaching safe. It clung protectively to his frail body, instantly improving his breathing and alleviating some of the aches that gravity brought. He tried to swap the tired suit he’d been wearing the past day for fresh gel, though none of it was exactly fresh anymore. Light blanched at the thought of how much the replenishment would cost.

After about ten minutes, Light exited the cot back into the corridor. His gel suit was about twice as thick as before, amounting to a metre of ‘meat’ around his otherwise lithe frame. The gel was more blue-grey than green now, though sickly patinas still bubbled to the surface occasionally.

Light made his way to the main cargo hold, where Senjen had busied himself with piles of crates of all different makes and sizes. The current configuration of the room wasn’t original to this ship; it’d been transplanted in at some point in the past. Tindrel rock-material met cool brushed metal of Human design. A large ramp door with black and yellow stripes at the edge made up one entire wall of this room.

Light’s implant told him the dock authorities were ready for them to unload, so he hit the archaic switch dangling from the ceiling that opened the bay doors. A bright light flashed and spun in the room as the door swung slowly down and they joined the vacuum of space. The utilitarian backdrop of the docking bay appeared. Light could make out a tall Tekeri in a sanguine red environment suit flanked by two hulking Tindrel dockhands and one Human. Automated cargo handling machines stood solemnly behind.

“Welcome to Factory Number Five. Customs Declaration and docking fee, please.” The Tekeri asked, accessing their comms.

At first, Senjen had just occupied himself dealing with their cargo. There were plenty of crates to get out into the loading zone, and between the two of them, he was the one more suited to manual labor. Or at least...he assumed so. Senjen had been reading up as much as possible on the QV, Korit, and pretty much anything else he could think of when he decided to take the plunge and head out into space. Still, it felt like he had only scratched the surface. These gel suits the QV used were such a strange way to get around, but he supposed it made much more sense than normal environment suits for an aquatic species. He was only guessing, granted, but just by watching Light, it looked like the suit let him swim around in a way that would feel natural for him. That was something he could understand, at least. Utaysi were software; they could inhabit frames constructed in any imaginable configuration, if they wanted. But, when it came to day-to-day life, most Utaysi still wanted a body that was familiar to their ingrained instincts. Senjen himself was not so strict on that matter, but he still understood it.

In any case, Senjen was quick to get the cargo ready for unloading. The cargo hold doubled as an airlock on this ship, and it took just a few moments to depressurize before opening. He obviously had no need for a suit to step into the vacuum of space, and the sensation of it was quite unlike anything else. His frame’s outer plating was equipped to experience sensations, to feel through similar microsensors as an organic’s surface receptors, but unlike him, it was dangerous for them to expose their skin to pure nothingness. Senjen had spent most of his life so far on his homeworld, so walking out into a vacuum was still new to him. He was not sure he would be able to put into words what it was like to feel absolutely nothing, all over. The feeling of air was so easy to ignore, until it was gone.

Senjen was starting to feel nervous, though luckily it was easy for him to avoid showing it. He couldn’t stop the natural reactions in his mind, but it was as easy as changing a setting to prevent his body from acting on them. He could be as stoic as he needed to be. He had done enough research ahead of time to know what he should expect in this process, in theory. Now he just needed to act natural.

A customs declaration, standard procedure, nothing unusual. Senjen accepted the incoming request, which brought up a prompt in the corner of his field of view. As was “encouraged” by the docking authority, he had already prepared the customs declaration ahead of time, so it was just a matter of attaching the file and confirming payment for the docking fee. It contained their statement on the reason for their visit, any goods for import and their destination, their point of origin, identification, and declarations of certain possessions like the sidearm Senjen carried in his frame.

The Tekeri was quick to skim through the most important bullet points of their documentation. Efficiency was what mattered to business on Korit, so customs was trained to know what to look for, and what to leave for inspection later down the line to get their cargo moving quickly. From Senjen’s understanding, Korit customs were particularly efficient, especially since they had much less they had to care about. Still, the Tekeri did have something to say as he reached the end of the document, directing his attention to Light, rather than Senjen. “Armed synthetics require separate declaration and registration with the port authority, there’s a form you need to-”

The Tekeri was suddenly cut off, leaving them with empty comms and the dead silence of space. The Human nearby carried a scanner, and she had already been going over Senjen and Light with it as they spoke. She and the Tekeri looked to one another, likely speaking in a private channel, before the Tekeri turned back and approved their customs declaration. “Apologies, Utaysi are still uncommon travelers. Your declaration is in order, I just need you to confirm you understand and accept this agreement on the rules and regulations of weapon possession on the station.”

Another prompt appeared for Senjen, this time linking to a verbose agreement written as obtusely as possible in legalese, to which he just scrolled through to accept. No one ever read those things.

Now they just needed to wait for the Human to scan their cargo to make sure it matched the declaration, and answer any other questions they might have about it. Unless Light had any surprises he did not know about, they would mostly just find some trade goods, most prominent of which were canisters of a particular enzyme produced by some extremophile bacteria on an undeveloped world. It was heavily restricted in most systems due to its potential use in the production of some rather potent drugs, but not on Korit. Here, it was legally treated as any other import, and made for a good decoy for any attention.

Unfortunately, the decoy cargo belonged to their employer, so they would not see a bit of the profit from its sale. Their money would come from delivering the data, and for that, Senjen felt he understood why he had been hired. Simple robots were property that might be inspected, but plenty of worlds like Korit were eager to start doing business with the galaxy’s newest arrivals. It was not nearly so acceptable to try to root through a person’s mind, so he was afforded more privacy in his own head, as long as they did not give them a reason to do anything more.

The inspection took an age, even if the Human did appear to be hurrying. Light waited with bated breath for them to turn a scanner on Senjen and ask to see a memory drive audit. But no such request came. Eventually the woman gave a thumbs up to the Tekeri, who motioned for the Tindrel and the automated loader arms they controlled to start grabbing the cargo. They raced forward enthusiastically, as if wagering who could move the most boxes.

The Tekeri motioned for both Light and Senjen to join them outside the cargo bay, then handed them both a small rectangular card.

“These are your physical access keys. It lets you back into this bay, and other Level 2 unlocked areas. Many people visiting Korit also choose to use it as their currency card. We use the Veruhn here - the exchange rate against the Galactic Credit is currently very good, owing to the current…climate.”

The Tekeri stole a glance to the left now, up the side of the bay towards the front of Light’s ship and then round to the right where the exit was. A few people in mismatching environment suits were waiting and watching from a safe distance.

They looked back again. “I’ve registered all your goods on the Exchange. For a further fee, I can broker for you, get the best price? I know Mokhtar would be very interested in these enzyme tanks.” A flicker of greed registered in the Tekeri’s beady eyes.

“Hey, move back! Wait until we finish unloading! Don’t make me check your access level!” The Human commanded on open comms, taking a few paces towards the ragged group of different species who had wandered a little closer. They skittered back somewhat.

“I can also help you get whatever you need to buy. Perhaps some more gel for you, sir?” He directed his gaze at Light, who shook his body by way of polite disagreement then looked back at the Tindrel loading boxes onto a cargo conveyor. The Tekeri turned his attention to Senjen, ignoring the commotion off to their left entirely. “The Utaysi are customisable, right? How about some upgrades? I’m sure I can find you the best pieces. What do you say?”

So far, so good. They were through the inspection phase, and now they just needed to get their cargo situated and get to the drop-off for the data. Easy. Senjen was prepared for this. He had done his research on the Korit, practiced what he would say when questioned, watched some movies...he could do this.

It was not long before the Tekeri started making offers to them. Offers for their cargo, offers to sell them things; he was pretty sure he had heard of this. In big cities, scammers would try whatever they could to get money out of anyone who looked like a tourist, but this wasn’t one of the cities. This was a space station, and he was a customs official, so he probably wasn’t an outright scammer. If Senjen remembered right, the forums he visited mentioned some dock workers had deals on the side with some vendors or businesses to get a commission on sales they had pushed their way. So...that meant the Tekeri probably could get them what he was claiming, but that didn’t mean they were the best deals. They were just what the Tekeri would get paid for.

Senjen had a feeling the Tekeri was not going to just give up with the sales pitches, so maybe he could just give the bait a nibble? He could keep some small talk going, since Light clearly did not want to, and maybe learn a bit in the process? He had to admit, there were some questions he was curious about. “You know, I did read that Utaysi could find alien hardware on Korit. It’s pretty tempting, I won’t lie. It’s honestly a bit embarrassing that the organics out here are ahead of us in robotics, but well...I guess we are pretty fresh off our home planet, all things considered. I heard they managed to code a software interface to be able to install a Utaysi personality matrix in a completely alien software environment. I’m, uh, not in the market for a fully body replacement now, though. How reliable are the software interfaces for individual upgrades with a Utaysi operating system?”

The Tekeri looked mildly disappointed Senjen wasn’t ready to buy an entire new body, but wasn’t ready to give up on the upsell opportunity. They spoke quicker and with more urgency now the customs business was done, leaning in slightly.

“Oh sure. Very reliable. All the Utaysi who go through here look different, that's why I thought you were a synth, see? But I can get you any kind of upgrade you need. Limbs, weapons, processing, drones, even that personality thing you said. We had a Utaysi like you in trouble for trying to rob a corporate vault right here on the Factories a few years ago. I’ll make a few calls and get you a good price, what do you need?”

Light was paying no attention to the conversation. Instead he supervised the Tindrel unloading their cargo. They must have received a command to speed up, because they practically threw the crates to each other. Their two large chitinous front legs splayed wide to allow their manipular hands space to maneuver properly.

“Please be careful with our wares! The contents may not be fragile but the crates are, with the way you’re handling them! ” Light exclaimed, floating over. The Tindrel ignored him, causing the QV to quiver with rage. Even though their employer didn’t care about the physical cargo, if Light couldn’t imburse them the full amount for it they would be punished. He turned back to his assistant who was a few metres away.

“Senjen! These dolts need help getting the cargo safely out of the ship!”

Just then, another Human pushed the armed customs inspector out of the way and rushed to Senjen and the Tekeri. A Tindrel and murky-looking QV followed, while other onlookers weren’t far behind.

“Are you heading off-world? Can you take us with you?” The Human asked. “We’ll pay!” The QV flashed. “We have to leave now!” The Tindrel wailed.

The Human customs inspector didn’t try to stop them this time. Instead they moved quickly to their Tekeri colleague and grabbed their arm. No words came over public comms, but it looked like they were advising they all left immediately. Senjen would likely notice that the Human had drawn their sidearm and held it close to their body.

The more this Tekeri spoke, the less Senjen was willing to trust any answer he gave. A Utaysi personality matrix was essentially their “mind”: a programming construct that contained all of their thought processes. Most Utaysi frames contained a secondary computer with expanded functions they could use, similar to how organics would sometimes install neural implants, but the personality matrix could not be modified by any normal means. This Tekeri did not seem to understand that, and that called into question the reliability of anything else he claimed. Senjen was genuinely interested in the possibility of finding some alien upgrades, but he felt he needed to find someone more reputable for that conversation.

Senjen was in the midst of trying to find some excuse to get away when Light came to his rescue, albeit unintentionally. Whatever it was the Tindrel were doing seemed to have his client upset, but he would rather deal with that at the moment. “Ah, hold on, I need to handle this.” He remarked to the Tekeri.

Carrying around some crates would have been easy enough for Senjen, but before he could even walk away, there was yet another bit of commotion that found its way onto their landing pad. There was a small group of people that seemed to be taking an interest in them, or their ship. There were different species among them, and there was little else that really stood out about them, except that they looked a bit...rough from his perspective. What they all had in common was the fact that they all seemed to want to leave Korit.

Senjen did not take any sort of aggressive posture towards them. They seemed to be troubled, so he lowered his head a bit and tried to be calm, disarming, especially with how on-edge the customs officials looked to be. He figured it would be better for everyone to try to avoid escalation. “I’m sorry, we’re not heading off-world anytime soon. But hey, this is a really big station. If you can pay like you say, then I’m sure you’ll be able to find a pilot willing to make a bit of extra money.”

“Ah, well. I’ll leave you to it. Best of luck!” The Tekeri said abruptly. With a further sale seeming increasingly unlikely, they let the Human drag them through the crowd towards the exit.

“Senjen!” Light called again, before turning round and registering the small crowd of disreputable types closing in on them. He flashed pure yellow with surprised, then wobbled quickly up the cargo bay ramp and opened a long door in the wall. The QV’s suit made a manipular and pulled out a long black object with a chain of red and gold cylinders trailing from the stock. It was absolutely ancient, museum ancient, and Light had no idea where it had been in its long life. He’d just found it in the locker when he first took command of the ship. He also had no idea what to call it, but knew it was Human from the letters ‘BS’ carved into the side of the barrel. His knowledge of Human languages was limited, so he’d just decided to name it Bang Stick. Because he was led to believe it went ‘bang’, with devastating effect.

Light turned then stepped aside when a Tindrel stormed past carrying the last of the cargo boxes. Then they stood at the top of the ramp with BS cradled in both manipulars. He could have stepped down onto the deck and closed the doors, but a shameful part of his brain considered the possibility of leaving Senjen down there and taking back off again.

Upon hearing Senjen’s rebuke, the gaggle of refugees shared a glance. Then the Human male who wore a yellow and green spacesuit came up close to Senjen.

“Hey, pal. I AM a pilot, 431st Fighter Group, Gilpin fleet, so is my friend Rutuk’tk here.” He gestured to the massive Tindrel next to him. The insectoid flexed its big arms.

“In fact, this ship suits my friend much more than it suits your shotgun toting boss up there. How about we give you a billion Galactic Credits for it and be on our way?” The Human glanced behind him at this point, and seemed relieved when he looked back.

The Tindrel who had unloaded Light’s ship now stood behind Senjen. Their route was blocked by the dozen or so people who were trying to board the ship, and they seemed nervous to move through them.

’Okay, so being nice didn’t dissuade them, and now there’s more of them.’ Senjen’s thoughts raced as he quickly glanced around the area. He was pretty sure he knew how he could get himself away if the situation went too far sideways, so...he could at least try. ’Yeah, okay, I can try. Intimidate. I prepared for this, just...thought it would be against some thugs or something. Not some random, desperate-looking people. Don’t want to just open up threatening them…’

Senjen stood up much closer to his full height. A Utaysi’s normal posture had them rather hunched over, so while up on his hind legs, he towered over the crowd, which helped for getting a good sight on who might be dangerous. His mind may not have been much like what the organics thought of as a normal AI, but his body was very much still a machine. Even if it wasn’t a combat model, he still had strength and durability. A normal Human had little to no ways to actually harm him unarmed, so the Humans he saw were probably not much of a threat. The Tindrel...maybe. Still, he just had to make them feel that the risk wasn’t worth it. Probably.

He broadcast on an open channel to each of them. “I’ll, uh, have to turn down that offer, sorry. If you look hard enough on this massive station, you’ll probably find a captain poor or bored enough to transport you all for whatever you can pay or trade for. Without trouble, without risk.” Okay, good start. He wasn’t instigating or escalating. He was being reasonable. But now he needed to make them feel they were taking a big risk right now.

“Look, I don’t have anything against any of you, but it’s my job to keep this ship safe. And I will, if I have to. It’s my client’s property, and we have the right to protect it.” He wasn’t being firm enough, he felt; he needed to put something in there to make them worry. That feeling of nothingness on his frame did give him one idea, now that he thought about it. “You all really don’t want to fight over this, trust me. Especially not right here. I mean, I would think you organics would put a bit more respect to how hostile it is out here to you.” This was good, he was onto something here. “Those pressure suits are nice and form-fitting, but I mean, I don’t see any of you wearing anything especially...durable.” If they were just refugees or something, then they probably weren’t wearing combat gear, or suits rated well-enough for hazardous mining or industrial work. Those were expensive, and would probably sell for enough to just buy passage off-world. “Do you know what happens when you all get an open wound exposed to space? Your bodies, they’re naturally pressurized to...whatever one atmosphere is on your homeworld. If you get a cut in your skin or a break in your shell out here, then all those organs and entrails inside, they just get pushed out the hole into space. It’s...horrifying even just to think about. One cut, one little cut, that’s all it would take, for nearly each and every one of you.”

Senjen gave an exaggerated motion of shrugging. “Nothing I have to worry about, of course, but I think you all should at least consider it before doing anything, uh...aggressive, out here.”

’Yeah, that was good.’ Senjen thought to himself, proudly.

Some of the refugees took an involuntary step back when Senjen rose to his fullest stature. Combined with Light’s determined look and heavy armament, they made for quite a formidable sight to someone unacquainted with their actual personalities. The people they confronted were desperate, but not that desperate.

The lead Human shared another look with his compatriots, then raised his hands. “Ok, ok. Easy, big fella. We were just having a conversation. We’ll be on our way, find some other way off this station. You have a great day, now.” With that, they turned around and drifted away, back round the front of their ship towards the exit. The loader Tindrel followed them, more comfortable now the situation had been defused.

Light slowly lowered the Bang Stick and leaned on it like it was a walking staff.

“Nicely done. Now grab your gear - we have a drop to make.” There was a note of reluctant admiration in his light show. Perhaps his new assistant wouldn’t be a total disaster after all.

The QV stowed his weapon back in its locker then closed up the cargo bay door. He activated the locks, alarms and countermeasures. There was always a chance the rabble would return and try to break into his ship while they were gone. But these would hopefully deter any intruders long enough for them to get back.

Together, Light and Senjen followed the same route most everyone else had taken. Round the front of their ship and to the right. Two sets of dotted lines on the floor about four metres apart denoted the safe walking area for visitors - all other floor space was set aside for machines and cargo. Once they’d rounded the ship, the rest of the hangar bay opened up to them.

It was a cavernous rectangular space in total chaos. Their craft was on the left hand side of the bay and shared it with two others. They were both of a similar size but totally different designs.

The middle ship was a sleek, modern cutter with stealthy black camouflage. A large, disorderly queue of people, mostly Humans, wended their way round the piles of crates which dotted the surrounding area. They were in no way sticking within the dotted lines. Light could see two Humans in full combat gear scanning people and checking documents at different points in the line. Light then noticed a Utaysi and two Tekeri kneeling uncomfortably in a row. Their limbs were bound together by energy cuffs. A woman in a high-tech, lightweight suit consulted a holo-pad nearby.

On the other side of the Human ship from them, a QV gelship of pristine white jiggled sedately. Light could just about detect streams of gelcrates being carted out - sperm packets and eggs, or food from the homeworld perhaps? His understanding of QV body language was far superior than for the other species. It seemed like two of them were arguing about something.

Close to the exit, which was level with the middle cutter, a Tekeri hawked a variety of in-suit food pouches from the back of a small four wheeled buggy. Four mercs hung around next to it. Upon seeing them, one called “Protect your ship, sirs? Or are you looking for protection around the station? Experienced and licensed security teams with a 100% satisfaction rate!”

Getting the mob to back off was exactly what Senjen had been trying to do. It was the point of intimidating them: to protect the ship and avoid unnecessary trouble. Still, he had to make an effort to avoid acting surprised about the fact it actually worked. He was clever, in his own humble opinion, but he couldn’t let anyone else know he had been anything less than confident about it. He was supposed to be a professional, after all. This was his job; obviously the mob left without trouble, because that was what his client was paying him for.

Senjen had everything he needed on him, mostly secured in storage compartments in his frame. Dropping down and moving on all-fours, he walked right alongside Light at what was, for him, a leisurely pace. Part of him wondered how fast a QV could actually move out of water, in their gel suits. In truth, he still was not entirely sure he understood how they worked. Those suits alone were probably what made the QV feel the most “alien” to him, out of any of the sapient species out there.

In any case, even just looking around the hangar bay gave a sense of just how much was probably going on in this station. That mob hadn’t even been the only bit of trouble in this room, which might have explained why they thought they might get away with what they had been trying. There was a proper QV ship on one of the other landing pads, which was even stranger than he had imagined to look at up close. Then there was a crowd around another, very expensive-looking ship just across the way. They looked to have prisoners for some reason, even a Utaysi, much to his surprise. Korit had a huge population of locals and visitors alike, so seeing some of his own people was not unusual, but he had not expected to see one in the same hangar bay. Especially not in that kind of a predicament.

“What do you think all that is about, with that expensive ship over there?” Senjen asked Light on a private channel. “Looks to be a crowd, and I’m a bit curious why they have those people locked up. Is that something weird about Korit I should know about?”

Light coughed and flashed red as they surveyed the hangar bay.

He had seen a lot of disturbing things in his life, and was jaded to some extent. But there was something so distressing and overstimulating about this scene that he struggled to focus on any one aspect. QV eyesight was designed for deep water, so was best for tracking lights and colours in the dark. He relied on a type of echolocation to understand the shapes and movement within his environment. It was rare for any ocean to have this many large objects all at once, so his gelsuit tried to sculpt the scene to draw Light’s attention to things it thought were important.

“I don’t know. Did they try to scam their way on board, as they did with my ship? Imprisonment isn’t common on Korit; perhaps they were violent towards the crew and will be released when they calm down. Do you need to eat?” The ruckus on the cargo ramp had shaken Light, and that made him hungry. They had food back on the ship, but going back would prolong the amount of time they needed to spend here. The QV eyed the food truck’s wares.

“Hey…psst.” A message came through just to Senjen.

“Over here. On the floor.” The Utaysi bound in a row with the other prisoners raised their head and looked at Senjen.

“Please. You have to free me. I haven’t done anything. They’re going to torture us or something. I don’t want to die!”

The woman standing next to the prisoners didn’t look up from her holo-pad.

Senjen probably should not have expected Light to know the answer, though his guess was not actually unreasonable. Granted, he also did not seem too concerned about them. With the way he was acting at the moment, he seemed more concerned with his stomach, really. Tilting his head towards Light, he quickly looked him over. With how translucent his species was, he could see what he was fairly certain was his stomach, in fact. He wondered, for a moment, if one could tell at a glance how long it had been since he had eaten?

It was at that point that Senjen received a private message, and given its content, he did not even need to look to guess by whom. In fact, he made a point not to look, nor give any other visible signs of acknowledgment towards the captives. He had seen enough spy movies; he was pretty sure he could be discreet about this.

Firstly, Senjen messaged back in response to Light. “Well I am, in fact, still a robot, so eating is not something I do. Battery is fully charged, though. You can feel free to have as much as you want. I don’t mind waiting around a minute.”

Next, Senjen gave a reply to the anonymous sender of the private message, who he guessed was the Utaysi. “Whoever is messaging me, who are you, and what actually is it that is going on?”